Twelfth Knight
by Sylverlyf
Summary: My favorite tale penned with Shakespeare's ink, is called the 'Twelfth Night'; it also falls under the name 'What You Will'. This story however, will fall under an altered storyline and as such will be more different in parts then similar in others.


**Authoress's Note: **My favorite tale penned with Shakespeare's ink, is called the 'Twelfth Night'; it also falls under the name 'What You Will'. The story line and flow of the characters is very eloquent and slightly comical, if you've ever read it you know what I mean. This story however, will fall under an altered storyline and as such will be more different in parts then similar in others. I don't plan on telling this as an exact replica of the actual story but core themes will be used and discarded at my whim.

I don't pretend to understand how to write play acts so the story will be told in narrative format I don't speak "ye ol' englysh" so I'll interpret the text how I choose and hope you find it agreeable**. **If for any reason you are supposed to read the 12th Night for your school/University, please, please for the love of monkey; do not use this telling as your base thesis.

I'm sure some of you are wondering why I have written such long (boring) and clarifying statements in the first dang A/N, but this is mainly for the reviewers who get too nit-picky with such things. Also for both our sakes I hope this will be the longest (most boring) A/N I have to do.

**Disclaimers: **I do not own nor represent either Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, Mai-HiMe, Sunrise or any other miscellaneously unnamed legal things* as this is a work of fiction and is only for entertainment value.

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**The Twelfth Knight**

By Sylverlyf

It was upon the white shores of Fuka that the sea cast up its bounty; and in such a wrecked and retching so did the bounty cast up the sea.

Black clouds of the storm fell quickly away allowing the sun to peak from the heavens and the tentative rays of sun seemed to pierce sharply into the opening emerald eyes.

Her head, heavy with wearies weight, lay on the wet sand. She slowly cast her gaze further out, looking for anything familiar or civilized but found nothing save scattered wreckage in her line of sight.

Taking a steadying breath, she attempted rising from where she lay. So long had she remain on that violent sea that even laying on the wet sand did she still feel the heaving of the ocean. Her body's unbalanced attempt to compensate for the bucking and rolling set her once again heavy on the sand.

Holding her head in her hands as her perception spun like a toy top she once had in youth. She inhaled the damp and fresh air of the receded storm deeply, steadily trying to upright the world by such breath alone. Gradually balance and memory return as slowly as her nausea faded.

Last recall, two days previously she had been on a ship bound to her homeland. Two days hence, the sudden and violent storm snatched her from that very ship she had been kept in the sea's undulating embrace. If not for Fortune's favor in the form of a whale fat sealed trunk, surely she would have been a corpse bride of the sea.

Upon that thought, she glanced down the unviewed side of the beach and did sight something that made her lips quirk in a smile of gratitude. That very same fortuitous trunk had been heaved from the sea, sitting along the same beach as she.

Standing on legs that trembled like a new born hart, she struggled her way along the still heaving beach to collect her bounty.

Her mouth stretched wider into a grin as she viewed the contents. Simple yet rich clothing of a gentleman, in the stead of the confining dressings of a woman, lay in spilt silks within the chest. _'Ah, what luck!'_

Though still weak and fatigued, she dragged the trunk to the tree line, changing her sodden clothing into the clean and dry garments then hanging her clothing to dry.

Although the new garments fit rather tighter then she perfered, whoever the gentleman before her was he was only of a slightly smaller stature, thus the clothes were near the right length. She could also tell from the subdued tones of the clothing, that whoever the gentleman was he was quite somber in nature as well; a small factor that made her most thankful.

_'The gentleman could have been a displaying peacock.'_ She shuttered in horror at the thought of having to wear the horridly bright and hideous colors of the foppish men in her father's court.

Most delicate and practiced of hands held an ivory carved comb that soon tamed the wet blue mane into a long silky curtain, which was quickly tied at the nape in a gentleman's fashion.

Deciding to sort though the rest of the trunk, the young woman found only sparce things umoung them a sword, clothing, a dagger and a satchel. A fancily forged sword lay at the bottom of the trunk, though she took the simple made dagger to carry in defence. As she looked thought the contents of a small satchel that had been buried underneath the variety of things stored in the chest, she could not help but snicker in bemusement.

_'So the somber gentleman fancied himself a poet?'_ Scroll upon scroll, lavishly penned words of abstract love and unrealistic yearning flow the words of Sir Nina Wang, Knight and Bard to the House of Otome; giving a name to go with the insights she had of her fated benefactor.

The satchel also contained correspondence from the Duke to House of Otome, requesting the knight help with the fair maiden who was Duke to House of HiMe.

By the accounts of the Handmaiden of the Duke to HiMe: "The Duke herself would be morning the passing of her brother for seven years so great is her grief. And in such, she is not accepting the suitor or suits of any or the gatherings that were not strictly necessary in rule of HiMe's territories. That so belay her with grief she walked veiled throughout her chamber, kept short her council and in keeping her brothers passing fresh she would water the flowers on her brother's grave once every day."

That ended the recount for the Handmaidens view but the Duke went on to say how noble the woman was that she pays such debt of grief to a brother. He commented on how richly she could love a lover if she grieved so much for merely a brother. The duke talked on about how perfectly perfect each aspect of their heart's desire was in very detailed description. Well essentially anyhow, as the poetics of the Duke seemed to bleed all over three sheets just to ask such a simple request. "Help me woo her toward happiness, that I may court her to marriage."

_'Hm, such passionate request that I wonder the youth of the Duke of Otome. Surly only youth is to be so impassioned as to color any one person in such perfection. Such a heavy burden, indeed, is being so perfect, for the grieving Duke.' _The young woman sighed as rolled the scroll and replaced it within the satchel.

A slight grin slid across her beautiful features, '_Assuming she is such perfection, or near, she must have many a horde of suitors. Although seven years of grief sound marvelous long, to avoid the pursuit of so numerous suitors, it now seems marvelously clever.'_ She frowned again, '_Not that I judge her grief undue, only the length of such a thing. For my brother, who is the best of brothers, I would give only one; for duties must be carried out, though mayhap melancholy after for such a loss.' _She glanced nervously heaven ward, narrowing her emerald eyes, '_Though this is not a figure I would care to test.'_

She gathered up the remaining items, returning them to the trunk. She began scanning the coastline for signs of civilization.

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A/N2: Yes dear goddess, another one, lol! Anyhow, I'm not sure if this is something I will pursue, considering how wonderfully difficult is it's to put into paper. It depends on the actual response, as in if you all think it is worth pursuit. It will be a grindingly slow effort though, no quick updates.


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